Lightnings
(As in more than one)
They walked into a dimly lit hallway with a service desk bearing a small sign that read "Be back in five minutes". Rand tilted his head back and wailed pitifully, drawing a curious face from a doorway. Upon realizing that the moans came from paying customers, the head disappeared and reappeared attached to a body. It was to this body Heather addressed herself.
"Hi, we were going to Randland and we thought we might stop here, and did. I guess the rest is up to you."
The body, Heather noticed, was one of the womanly type, with breasts and all, which the body did the utmost to call attention to by small studded arrows pointing in the general direction of an impressive amount of cleavage, to aid the exceedingly dim. Impressive meaning large, by all means not beautiful, but this wasn't enough not to draw both of Rand's eyes, upon which their foundation was promptly smacked from the rear by a marauding appendage. He turned to regard his attacker, opening his mouth for a (he hoped) chidingly witty remark that would singe maidenly ears. The words he had prepared died in his mouth when faced with Heather's wrath-filled blue eyes. He spit their little corpses out, and smiled sheepishly at her.
"Uh....nice little arrows."
Heather smacked him in response, and grabbed his ear, pulling him close. "Much as I would like to say I did that to cause you pain," Rand opened his mouth, "to CAUSE you PAIN!" Rand howled in agreement. "I did it because you now have three potential homicidal maniacs after either the wench's or your head." Min, Aviendha, and Elayne stood frothing in the corner. Rand opened his mouth again. "And not in a pleasantly sensuous way, either!" Rand closed his mouth and meekly cast his eyes upon the floor. Heather sighed, and turned back to their tour guide.
"I take it you are Sissy Biggers?"
Cleavage wench smiled, nodded, and said "No, it's my cat." Heather eyed her carefully. "Beg'm pardon?" Sissy Biggers gave her world-famous smile. "My kitty litter is Arm&Hammer! Yummy fresh-and-clean!" Heather gave her an appropriately level look, and turned back to Rand, kicking him in the shin. "And I do NOT have maidenly ears!" Rand reeled in pain. He had not realized he had spoken any of his thought aloud. Sometimes his mouth decided to work without him.
Heather sighed, and turned to Sarah.
"You're starting to do that a lot," Sarah observed. Heather sighed again and said "Yes, I know." Sarah patted on her shoulder comfortingly, then handed her back her seat belt, which she used to wrap her head in. Sarah took over.
"HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THAT IS SACRED!!!" Sarah clutched her chest, gasping, and spoke a bit more calmly, in her most authoritative voice. "Pocket, PIP!" The walls trembled. She toned her voice down a bit. "What in GOD'S name are you doing here?"
Pocket removed his head from Pip's coat and regarded Sarah stupidly. "Why, darling! We just-GHAAAAUUUUUGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" He was interrupted by Sarah wrapping her hands around his throat and pounding his head against the wall. Her hands instantly sprang away and she backed off, still watching Pocket, and held them under the water fountain. "Don't ever call me that again or I'll use something that isn't afraid of touching your diseased little epidermis." Pip giggled, turned to Pocket and said. "Oh yes, little darling, little Handel, she has the right of it, little indeed! Hee hee! Oh, but I hope our private life, which for the sake of the expression is private, verbally and rightfully so, or thus the comment would be lacking, the presence of course which would not be missed, is by my so unwittingly bringing it to subject, by means of a recent comment, does not offend you, that by bringing to light that which should be between only the securest of companions, of which I trust we are-"
"Oh indeed!"
"And thus I had ascertained, by the flights of fancy we so extravagantly brought to be, more so by my dear Handel himself's imagination and my social bonds to several well-endowed members of the carpentry profession-"
"Oh, quite right!"
-Did prove with such interesting and excitingly dull feats we did perform on each other's b-"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Sarah ripped out little fistfuls of Loial's hair and stuffed them in both Pocket's and Pip's mouths, then turned to regard the owner of the shriek. Sarah's face lit up. "Lews Therin!" Lews Therin's face lit up, and he ran to Sarah. "Darling!" Sarah dodged, and Lews Therin emphatically embraced a now half-bald Loial, who imitated Lews Therin's shriek. Lews Therin then emphatically vomited on Loial, to which Heather remarked "ew", now that she had been drawn out of her seatbelt-induced privacy by Lews Therin's anguish. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. "Hey Lewser, my old Welch tart, weird to see you, why you shriekin?"
Lews Therin rubbed his bottom, and peered at Sarah hopefully. Sarah gave him a murderous look, and he hurried on. "Ah, Aviendha speared Rand's backside." Sarah was sufficiently pleased with this remark, and Heather's attention was captured elsewhere, as both Pocket and Pip were trying to cough up their hairballs. "You had better plug them with something," she remarked.
"Yes I think you'd better had," Loial said with a wide grin. Heather calmly kicked him through the wall. Sissy Biggers patiently stood by wringing her hands. "Uh.........................................."
"Continue," Heather said kindly.
"Uh........................... Oh yes! Money?"
"Why thank you!" Heather said brightly, and helped herself the safe in the vending machine.
"Oh...I...don't....think....-"
"Yes, we gathered," said Elayne helpfully.
"-that's....what I meant."
Heather started. "Oh! You mean you want money? Oh, of course. How much?"
Sissy smiled, finally getting the response she wanted. "$5.00 a person."
Heather cheerfully handed over the money from the vending machine, and led the group to the bowels of the plant, after tying Pocket and Pip each to either of Sissy's breasts, which she knew they were too much of 'gentlemen' to touch. The group had split itself into two groups, each one eyeing the other distastefully. In one group was the Emond's Fielders, and all of their acquired associates, and the other consisted of a varying degree of no-goodnicks. Heather did a quick head count, then slowed and repeated the process. "Where are Moiraine and Thom?"
Nynaeve answered. "Thom said something about 'stiff' and hobbled off. Moiraine followed. We thought he was talking about his leg."
"Goody, more forbidden nookie. Hey, everyone fall in love with everyone else! Half the characters already are! The next person or persons I see nookie-ing, I am personally going to put them in the vat."
"Vat?" Lews Therin said wistfully, then broke into uncontrollably silent laughter.
"Yes, vat!" said Sissy, walking up. "These vats were built by old miners late in the late 1800's, somewhere in the late 19th century..." Sissy continued ignorantly along as she led the group on the scheduled tour.
Lews Therin lagged behind, and so consequently did Rand. And as a matter of course, Min, Aviendha, and Elayne followed him. Lews Therin giggled at Elayne, over there looking at him, her eyes clear pools, her curls the color of carrots. "I wonder if they taste like carrots too," he wondered aloud. Now everyone was looking at him, Elayne warily, Rand, Min, and Aviendha suspiciously. The fools. They couldn't possibly follow his thought patterns. At times, not even he could. He peered intently at Elayne's hair, hoping the taste would filter through to him by osmosis. He didn't see the soda machine and smacked into it, breaking Rand's nose. He wailed in pain, not his of course, and Rand, who had been floating in the Void, didn't care much, but Lews Therin's wail had broken his concentration and filaments of pain spiderwebbed across his brain, making him moan. Min moaned back, and Lews Therin began singing "Hot Stuff". Rand screamed and flailed about his head, trying to dislodge Lews Therin. Rand fell to his knees and began shuffling towards the front
Heather looked behind her, only to see Rand fast approaching in a sort of crab-like movement she supposed was to induce sympathy. She knelt down to put herself face to face with Rand, who recoiled slightly. "What?"
Rand swallowed. "Um...."
"No."
"But you don't even-!"
"No."
"No you don't know, or no you won't-"
"No."
"O...K"
"No."
"Um...."
"I said no."
"Yes I heard, but-"
"No."
"Yes I DID, but-"
"No."
"Oh."
"No. And the 'o' is silent!"
Heather kicked Rand in the head, producing two thin wails, and turned back to Sarah, who was walking backwards in order to see when Sissy would notice that she was talking to the back of Sarah's head. They shared a look, then Sarah gave a screech and fell over, with Lews Therin wrapped around her legs. "Yes?"
"No," came Heather's helpful comment.
"Shut up Heather, what do you want Lewser?"
"Rand asked me to ask you to ask Heather to ask me if it's OK if I can have a body for my very very own so I won't have to share his girlfriends with me please?"
"You'll have to ask Rand to ask me to ask Heather to ask you to ask Rand to kick himself in the head, because that's Heather's department, I'm just here for the scenic atmosphere, she's the head cheese, the Big Honcho, and in charge of limb distribution."
"Oh. Ok."
"No," came Heather from over on the far left of the group, where the Myrddraal was located. Lews Therin hung his head dejectedly and slunk to the back of the group once again.
The Myrddraal smelled a presence in the air, and turned, putting himself face to face with a face (hah haaaaah). He gave a small start, and opened his mouth questioningly. "No," Heather said cheerfully. A Sprite sailed gracefully through the air to make contact with the back of Heather's head. "Stop that!" came Sarah's voice. The Myrddraal snickered, and Heather whirled to challenge him, her eyes blazing. "Aiiiiieeek! AAAh! UM! Um! I have to....go..."
"To the bathroom?" Heather suggested helpfully.
"Uh....yes. Please?"
Heather was too busy setting the Myrddaal's greasy little head on fire to respond. He shrieked and ran laps around the group, hoping the extra oxygen generated by his sprint would help smother the flames. Lews Therin tripped him casually, and Loial slowly made his way toward where the Myrddraal's maimed body lay. Heather snickered back at the Myrddraal, then promptly forgot about him and returned to her spot at the front of the group. Sissy was still talking to the back of Sarah's head.
"...must have been, like, sooo heavy! I mean, like, the blocks of stone alone would have been a burden to carry up, so they wouldn't have wanted to..."
Heather's attention trailed. "Puddle on the carpet, puddle on the carpet, puddle on the carpet, puddle on the carpet, puddle on the carpet, puddle on the carpet, puddle on the carpet, puddle on the carpet, puddle on the carpet, puddle on the carpet, puddle on the carpet, puddle on the carpet," Heather chanted happily and quite madly. Sarah opened a Sprite, poured the contents out onto the floor, and chucked the can at Heather, who responded with "bite me", which several of the characters would have been happy to oblige to do had it been anyone else. Heather's chant reached a higher octave, and Sissy Biggers shook herself slightly and looked around.
"Hey, you're not really listening, are you?"
No one responded, since no one was listening.
"Fine then, I might as well throw myself out a window for all you people care."
She looked around hopefully, hoping someone would disagree . She sighed, producing a shrill giggle from Rand, and continued with her solitary dialogue. "No one...hey, what's that smell?" The Myrddraal, sensing someone actually cared about his well being, ran straight toward Sissy Biggers, hoping to smother his head in her tremendous bosom to counteract Loial trying to sooth his burns by licking them. He missed, and collided with Sarah. They fell into a little two-person heap atop the multi-colored floor tiles, or rather a one person/ Myrddraal heap. He decided Sarah's bosom would do for soothing, and buried his head in it.
Heather hummed contentedly along, just behind Lan and Nynaeve, silently slipping from shadow to shadow, in order to eavesdrop on their obviously very private conversation.
"Lan, you ARE an idiot. Of course you're going to get a rash if you don't cure the leather first." Lan silently shook his head, which caused Nynaeve to lower her brows and her voice to a dangerous pitch. "Are you disagreeing with me?" Lan beamed eagerly at her. "I love it when you talk dirty to me," he beamed. A confused look passed across Nynaeve's face. She spun to kick him in the head, and he went down in a crumpled heap, then bounded back up almost immediately. I think he enjoys that. Damn masochist. Heather ignored the thought, and crept a bit closer. Nynaeve sighed and put a deathgrip on her braid. "I WILL NOT GET MAD AT YOU!" she yowled, then tried to look meek. Lan backed up a few steps, but Nynaeve hauled him back. "Sometimes I think you're not all there, darling." A smoky look entered her eyes, but she waved away the joint Lan was trying to offer her. He shrugged, and flicked it at Lanfear. She picked it up and peered at it curiously, and was tackled by Padan Fain. Lan turned to Nynaeve with a dirty grin. "Want a poking?"
Nynaeve gagged and stumbled so hard she skidded a few feet. She picked herself up, dazed, and then howled with laughter. Lan felt rather put-down, and sniffled pitifully. Nynaeve snorted with laugher she was trying to conceal, and pointed a shaky finger toward the front, where the Myrddraal had just tackled Sarah. Heather tilted her head thoughtfully, wondering what Sarah was going to do to him, when the Myrddraal buried his face in her chest. Sarah eyes widened, and she screeched, trying to pry him off while trying not to touch him, the result being she didn't make much progress. Heather wondered desperately what to do, then decided Sarah could take care of herself.
Sarah pulled her blow-torch out and burned the Myrddraal's arms off, then stood up, the Myrddraal sliding down to the ground. He stared up at her. "Yes, I DO have a death-wish," he said to forestall her.
"Actually, I was going to ask, regular or extra-crisy?" He looked slightly poleaxed, and opened his mouth.
"-"
"Extra-crisy it is!" Sarah fried his lips off, then drop-kicked him into a vat of acid. She then turned the blowtorch on herself to sterilize where he had touched her. Nynaeve giggled helplessly, and Sarah calmly walked over and stapled her to the ceiling. Heather giggled, and Sarah wailed and threw herself at her. "Purify meeeee!" Heather annihilated her, and brought her back, good as new. Sarah grinned thankfully at her, and skipped back to the front.
Heather turned to face Lan, who knew he was going to get whomped on for his suggestion to Nynaeve, and hurriedly stapled himself to the ceiling. Heather nodded satisfactorily, then stalked to the front, tugging on her tiny excuse for a braid. She heard a growl from the ceiling, and tilted her head to regard Lan. He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she decided how he was going to die. She puttered over to Faile, and grinned condescendingly at her. Faile raised her eyebrows questioningly.
"Faile, will you whine Lan to death?"
She smiled, and Heather stapled her to the ceiling. A piercing wail came from the ceiling, and Lan began to groan.
I'm getting rather bored, Heather thought. She thought of several ways she could spice things up. Her amusing thoughts were interrupted by a tugging on her braid. She peered over her shoulder at Aviendha, who was the only female she had even a semblance of liking. "Yews?" Aviendha pointed toward the vat of acid, and Heather sighed when she saw the Myrddraal peeking out. "Oh yes, that's right, he doesn't die." She raised her voice. "Yes, you can come out now!" The Myrddraal slid down the side of the vat, and Nynaeve gave a screech twin to Lan's. Heather regarded the Myrddraal's pale body where his cloak had been dissolved away by the acid, and shuddered at the yellow thong he had favored this day. She wondered whether it would only make it worse to ask him to take it off, but she was relieved of this decision by the sound of ripping fabric as Nynaeve's dress gave way under her considerable weight. She plummeted to where the Myrddraal stood, crushing him on impact. He made a thin mewling sound, and Nynaeve jammed her heel into his eye. "Shut up." In the back of the group, Lews Therin began singing the thong song, and Rand began pleading for him to stop. I wonder how Nynaeve managed to jam her heel into his eye if he doesn't have any, Heather thought.
"You're very talented," she told Nynaeve, who eyed her nervously, since she had no idea what Heather was talking about. Heather decided she would abandon her pursuit of interesting things to do, and decided instead to pursue her reading. She pulled out The Big Book of Evil Things to do to the Reasonably and Terminally Sane and began reading The group segregated itself again, and they continued further into the plant.
"And, like, they founded, like, this place," Sissy Biggers continued on in a fake valley-girl accent, "and like, the communists took over and started a fascist state in which they immortalized Bob Camden in a wall, uh, that is to say, there was this dude..."
Heather stared at her suspiciously. There was something about that speech...Heather walked to Rand and steered him over to position him in front of Sissy. He inhaled sharply and exploded.
"Cool," Heather said.
Elayne growled deep in her throat, but Aviendha was more direct, pulling out her spear and lunging at Sissy. She jammed her spear into Sissy's chest, but it repelled it and bounced off, hitting Elaida in the head. Sissy smiled infuriatingly at Aviendha, and Heather walked back behind her, and snapped her bra strap.
She jumped. "Hey!"
"Hello Morgan, is this your summer job?"
"Why yes it is," Morgan replied, grinning from behind her Maybelline-plastered lips.
"I didn't recognize you with makeup on," Heather said quite obviously. "And the blonde hair didn't help either."
"Yes, I am in disguise," Morgan said even more obviously.
"Ah, that's nice," Heather said less obviously, and peered around her. "Well, I guess that means the tour is over.
"I guess it does."
"Sarah's been molested by the Myrddraal," Rand piped up helpfully, then exploded when he saw Morgan looking at him.
Heather observed this thoughtfully. "Hmmm, you're very talented. Perhaps you will have better luck with keeping the peace-"
"Piece"
"Shut up Lan! Peace, than Sarah is having. Scenic atmosphere isn't very intimidating."
"Hmmm, but what about my job here? I have spy cameras and I'm hoping one day I'll catch someone trying to photocopy their face or something on tape so I can blackmail them with it."
"It pays good...uh...wafers."
"Fine then. I suppose you have room for me, then?"
"Probably. Hey, do you know where Padan Fain went?"
"No."
"Oh. Oh well. Hey, do you know Pocket and Pip are tied to your breasts?"
Morgan grinned sadistically. "Yes." Both Pocket and Pip's hands were creeping closer, then darting back periodically, according to the schedule they had written up just for the occasion. Morgan went off to the back to change out of her dress, dragging Pocket and Pip behind her. Heather turned back to the horrified groups and addressed those who were conscious
"Guess who's joining us!"
"Uh," Rand started, "the chick with the rack?"
A lone bowling shoe zipped from the back room and smacked the back of Rand's head, causing him to explode on contact. Heather observed how much more effective that was than a lighter.
"Come! We go! Does anyone need anything before we leave?" Both Sarah and the Myrddraal opened their mouths at the same time. Since Sarah had the aide of lips, she got out the words first. "I'm going to the bathroom."
"Me too," exclaimed both the Myrddraal and Lews Therin, who had been formerly engaged in a staring contest and had missed the announcement that Morgan was coming with them. Heather acquiesced, and they made their way to a set of black doors bearing blue signs with white drawings, showing which rooms were designated for which sex, and a smaller one specifying what you were supposed to do in them to aide the exceedingly dim. Heather turned to Morgan, who had just emerged from the back room clad in a pair of black jeans and a black jacket with a pair of purple and black shoes which got an approving look from Lan, from where he was stationed on the ceiling.
"You must get a flow of exceedingly dim people through here." Heather noted that both Pocket and Pip were missing, and inquired where they went
"I put them in my desk drawer and jammed it closed with a post-it note neither of them is strong enough to remove." She smiled maniacally at Heather, then turned and smiled maniacally at Lanfear, who gave a start at the unexpected attention. She smiled back, beautiful enough to make Heather's teeth hurt, and Morgan gave her her patented Dead Cow look, the force of which pushed Lanfear back a couple steps. She hurried to the back of the group, giving Morgan hunted looks from over Moiraine's shoulder, who in turn was giving Lanfear murderous looks from over hers. Heather giggled gently, then tapped her foot, waiting for everyone to finish whatever it was they were doing.
Lews Therin pushed the door with the little male stick figure on it, and went inside, followed by the Myrddraal. He stood side by side with him, both eyeing the row of urinals uncertainly. The Myrddraal turned to him, chuckling uneasily.
"Uh, heh heh, enjoy yourself, I'll wait."
"No," he replied, "you go first."
"No...that's alright"
"No, it isn't."
"Yes, it is"
"NO IT ISN'T!"
"DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"
Lews Therin ripped one of the urinals out and ran toward the Myrddraal, who filled his hands with pink bathroom soap and tossed it in Lews Therin's eyes.
Out in the hallway, Rand screeched and clapped his hands over his face.
The Myrddraal frowned menacingly in what he thought was Lews Therin's direction, and rushed him, both hands outstretched.
Lews Therin watched in amusement as the Myrddraal grappled with a plunger stuck to the side of a toilet bowl. He grinned triumphantly, walked over to the remaining urinals, and proceeded to use them. Apparently, both had forgotten that it was the right to go second that they were fighting over.
Out in the hallway, Rand's face went crimson and he grabbed himself, darting into the men's room, howling. Perrin's howls pursued him. Lan waggled his eyebrows from his perch on the ceiling. "He musta been bored."
Heather lowered her eyebrows and slowly turned to face Lan, tilting her head back to do it. An evil smile broke out across her face as she pulled out an electric razor and casually vaulted herself up next to the Warder, shaving his eyebrows off as she descended again. Nynaeve scowled darkly at Heather, then turned back to her husband and sighed, trying not to giggle as she did so. Lan gave her a chastised look and feebly tried to waggle his forehead bumps at her. Heather didn't even try to conceal her giggles. She heard echoing giggles from in the men's room.
Oh God, the Myrddraal, Rand, and Lews Therin, all holed up in a bathroom together, and giggling. Heather shook her head. Did I just use the expression 'holed'? Heather decided she should perhaps, against her better judgement, go inquire as to what in God's name it was exactly that they were doing. She moonwalked over to the men's room, and reached out her hand to shove open the door. She was stopped by a woman screaming. She spun slowly to face the Whitecloak, one hand clutched to his chest and the other thrust out toward her. "You can't go IN there! Don't you see the SIGN?!?"
Heather peered at the sign, then moved her head closer so her nose was just inches away from it, then moved her head back, peering from the Whitecloak to the sign and back again. She smiled. Her face was beginning to ache from all the maniacal grinning that was going on, but she just had to, under the circumstances.
"Well," she said loudly, grabbing the Whitecloak by his white cloak, "I guess YOU'LL just have to traverse to the other side and break up whatever they're doing then, won't you?" she said, and shoved him in, the door swinging shut on all three parties in question gathered in a heap, squeezing something wet looking on a pile of sculpted toilet paper. Heather started to dust her hands off purposefully, then realized the Whitecloak probably didn't have a speck of the stuff on him to dust off. She bent instead to scrub her hands across Min, and, her hands feeling sufficiently dirty, dusted them off purposefully. Min scowled at Heather, and casually placed her hands on her hips and swayed over in the general direction of the ladies room, making the announcement she meant to go in.
Heather waved her away, and turned to Sarah, who was staring intently at the soda machine. She was about to partake in the festivities but was interrupted by the Whitecloak sailing out the men's room door to make contact with the opposite wall. Rand and the Myrddraal sauntered out; Lews Therin strutted. Rand was clutching something that oozed down the front of his shirt. He held it out to Heather. "We were going to make this a voodoo doll of you, but then the fruit came in-"
"I thought they were restrained by a post-it." Heather interrupted.
"No, the Whitecloak came in, and tried to persuade us to turn to the Light, which I suppose was being generated by his ass since he immediately turned around and dropped his pants in order to use the urinals, so we altered it slightly-" a dangerous light entered Heather's eyes, -"uh, that is, we made a few drastic changes and sculpted instead this voodoo whitecloak. See, it's made out of toothpaste and toilet paper, so it really is white!" Rand beamed proudly, then swallowed heavily and added, "Well, Lews Therin kind of...um...trimmed him down." Lews Therin grinned a blindingly white smile.
Heather tilted her head. "I don't get it."
Lews Therin continued to grin. "I un-holied the holy man."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLL RIGHT! LET'S MOOOOOVE IT OUT!" Heather yelled at the top of her lungs, making everyone jump and several pass out. Heather gathered everyone in a tight-knit group and ordered them to sneak out commando style. They slunk toward the front. Lews Therin managed to strut. Light was beginning to filter through five bottle-green windows set fifty feet up the merciless gray walls. Heather stayed at the back of the group, making sure they didn't straggle. She paused at the door of the back office to giggle at the pathetic wailing coming from Pip's and Pocket's combined efforts to remove the post-it and push the drawer open. Heather hassled everyone inside the van, with Morgan driving and Sarah in the passenger's seat. Heather stationed herself next to the Myrddraal, in the far back. She turned, smiling, to regard his tortured face. "Hi." He grinned unsteadily back
"Uh, hi."
"Hi"
"Hi"
"Hi"
"Hi"
"Hello there"
"Hello yourself."
"Well hi"
"Hi"
"Hi"
"Hi"
Heather smacked the Myrddraal in the face. "Don't copy me."
"Fine."
"Say 'oh'."
"No!"
"Why?"
"Because you'll hit me and say 'The 'o' is silent' and it'll hurt!"
Heather grinned and smacked the Myrddraal in the back of the head. "Yes I will. And the 'o' IS silent!" Heather shoved her combat boot rather forcefully in the Myrddraal's face, seriously impeding his sense of smell. He made a thin mewling noise, and Heather pressed harder until he made a thick mewling noise, then nearly crawled back to the front before realizing that Morgan was now driving.
She sighed. "Oh well, just as good since Sarah's in the passenger's seat."
The Myrddraal grinned weakly back. Heather beamed at him. "Wanna play Parcheesi?"
"Uh...I don't know how."
"That's ok, I don't even know what it is."
The Myrddraal's grin faltered slightly, then gained strength. "Wanna play road bingo?"
Heather stared suspiciously at him for a moment, then smiled and agreed. The Myrddraal smiled happily back.
Morgan glanced in the rear-view mirror, and caught Rand's eye. She grinned widely at him, since it seemed to be THE thing to do, unzipped her jacket so her striped T-shirt was showing, and shifted so he had a clear view of her breasts. He inhaled sharply and exploded.
"Aauuugh!!!" Thom shook his head disgustedly and stared accusingly at Morgan, who smiled and waved a video tape at him.
"I know what you and Moiraine were doing. And you'll have to give me 2,000 pounds to keep me from revealing your names, the names of the three other people involved, the youth organization to which they belong, and the shop where you bought the equipment."
Thom scowled stubbornly at her, and said "Thom and Moiraine, Loial Elaida and Magwich, Boys Girls and Other Club, and TG&Y."
Morgan turned and chucked the tape at his head, where it stuck.
Sarah had purchased a can of soda, and was peering intently at it. Morgan raised an eyebrow questioningly. Sarah continued to peer at the soda can, and Morgan realized she'd have to make some sort of noise or morph into a soda can to get Sarah's attention, so she opened her mouth peremptorily-
"GOAT!!"
Morgan, trying to avoid squishing the poor beast, swerved off the road violently, into a field, and managed to hit the goat in a pasture she had been trying to avoid squishing back on the road. She turned to regard Heather and the Myrddraal in the back, who had made the cry. The Myrddraal smiled sheepishly.
"Uh...bingo."
"Heather, would you toss the Myrddraal to the front?"
Heather peeked over the seat at Morgan, then raised her head enough for Morgan to see her maniacal grin, and chucked the Myrddraal to the front, where a sharp gasp was followed shortly by the sound of exploding. Heather twisted and peered over the seat toward the front again. "We were playing road bingo."
"Oh. Well, someone had to accompany the poor goat's soul to heaven."
Heather gave her a very level look, and Morgan realized how stupid that sounded, considering it WAS the Myrddraal, and asked for the Whitecloak to be chucked up to the front instead. She threw the Myrddraal back, where he landed on the seat, bouncing happily, and Heather exchanged him for a Whitecloak.
Morgan stared at the frightened Whitecloak for a moment. If she were to flash her breasts at him, he might explode so hard as to take the whole car with him. She bent over and whispered gently in his ear
"Menstruation"
He gave one scandalized gasp before exploding indignantly. Morgan snickered, and Rand peered curiously up toward the front.
"What's that?"
Morgan turned to eyeball him. "What's what?"
"Manstrooation."
Morgan stared disbelievingly at him. "You mean you have three girlfriends and you don't KNOW?"
Rand shook his head stupidly, and peered around the empty seat. "Where is everyone?"
"My you do skip ar-HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THAT ISN'T! Heather!"
Heather peeked unintelligently over the seat. "Yews?"
Morgan fought to keep a grin off her face. "We left Lan and Faile stapled to the ceiling, and Pocket and Pip are still in the drawer, and Min is still in the ladies room," she made a guilty pause, "which I took the liberty of locking. Ahem." Rand peered around speculatively, and, realizing Min was indeed missing, shot an accusatory look at Morgan, who shot him a hard look in turn. Rand gave her a hard look back, though coming from Rand...Morgan screamed and swerved the van off the road, got out and dragged Rand out of the van. She stared at him speculatively, and he smiled at her to soften it. It didn't help.
"What he needs is a cold shower," Heather suggested from the open window towards the back of the van. Morgan turned to face Heather, giving her a careful look. "We don't have a shower, do we?" Heather shook her head. "Well..." She looked at Rand, who was grinning, embarrassed, from one person to another. Heather sighed, and her face disappeared from the window. She emerged from the van door and stopped to regard Rand beside Morgan. "Morgan, you go play road bingo with the Myrddraal and I'll take care of Rand. I'm letting him win." she said, jerking her head toward the van. There was an indignant squawk from the Myrddraal, and Heather faced Rand in all his Dragonly glory, which meant he was sitting in a muddy puddle playing with his shirt laces and grinning abashed at the ground.
"Eh," Heather shrugged, and got back into the van and drove off, leaving Rand still grinning at the ground. There was an agonized wail from Elayne, and once again they continued on their long journey.